Page 74 of The Hollywood Switch-up

His expression softened. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the water lapping softly against the tile.

She pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it aside. She watched his throat work, his hands stalling mid-motion in the water, his gaze dropping to her chest before snapping back to her face.

She stepped into the pool. The water was cool against her skin, enough to make her gasp. She waded in until it lapped at her ribs.

She risked a glance at him and found that soft, knowing smile that made her want to kiss him. “I hate that you do that. See through me.”

“Is that really what you hate?”

The question landed somewhere she wasn’t ready. She took a step closer, the water swirling between them.

“No,” she admitted. “I hate that I like it.”

His hand lifted from the water—reaching for her—then fell back, his breath catching. “You’re standing there looking at me like that, and I’m supposed to just—” He laughed, short. “My Tita would be very disappointed in my self-control right now.”

She took another step. Close enough to see his knuckles white against the tile, close enough to watch him lose the fight to look unaffected.

“I keep thinking about what you said. About wanting things. About deserving it.” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I believe that yet. But I want to try. With you.”

He went still. The teasing, the deflecting, all of it fell away.

“You matter to me.” The words came out raw. “This matters. And I’m terrified you’re going to come to your senses and realize you can do a lot better than an actor with a bad reputation and a worse filmography.”

“Stefan—”

He lifted her—effortlessly—and set her on the tile ledge, stepping onto the submerged first step so the water dropped to his waist. Cool against her thighs, a sharp contrast to the warmth spreading up her legs.

“I told myself I’d be patient.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Respectful.” Another kiss, higher, on her inner thigh. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there and she jolted. “I’ve spent weeks thinking about this. Wondering what you’d taste like. What sounds you’d make when I finally got my mouth on you.”

“Then stop wondering and find out.”

His mouth found her through the thin fabric of her underwear, and her brain dissolved.

“Paciencia, corazón.” His smile curved against her. “I’ve waited weeks. I’m going to take my time with you, slowly, until you’re shaking and begging me to let you come on my tongue.”

“I didn’t come out here at three a.m. for patience, Stefan.”

He pulled the fabric aside and dragged his tongue slowly up her center, and whatever she’d been about to say disappeared into a moan that echoed across the pool.

“Joder.” His fingers tightened on her thighs, spreading her wider. “I’ve jerked off to this exact image—your legs over my shoulders, moonlight on your skin, this pretty pussy dripping for me.” His tongue circled her clit, slow and deliberate. “Every night in that villa. Picturing exactly this. Burying my face between your thighs until the only name you could scream was mine.”

Her head fell back, spine arching. His mouth worked her, alternating between soft licks and firm pressure, learning what made her gasp, what made her dig her nails into his scalp.

He paused, mouth hovering over her, and looked up to meet her eyes in the moonlight. “Eyes on me.” His voice dropped. “I want you watching while I do this. I want you to see how hard it makes me knowing I’m the one making you this wet.”

Something cracked open in her chest. She held his gaze.

“Así me gusta.” He held her eyes as his tongue found her clit again. “Look at you. Spread open in the moonlight, legs shaking, hips grinding against my face like you can’t get enough.”

“I can’t get enough.” She fisted her hand in his hair and pulled him closer. “So stop pulling away and make me come.”

His groan vibrated through her. “I could live between your thighs, Erika. Podría vivir aquí.”

Watching him watch her pushed her to an edge she hadn’t known existed.

“I can’t—I’m going to⁠—”